NokiMo
Sinbad
Sinbad

patreon


Naruto: Legacy of the Byakugan Chapter 10

Future Legends

March 16, 35 bNb

.

Hiroto reclined against the wooden post and sighed, watching the field in front of him with scrutiny.

Joint class training day.

The training field was wider than usual, probably to accommodate the combined student body—it was really quite nice, if he was being honest. 

He had no problem with fighting those a year older than him; rather, the problem was something else entirely, namely, a gaggle of students—legends, seemed more appropriate, he reckoned—he recognized. 

Tsunade.

Orochimaru.

Jiraiya.

Sakumo Hatake.

Might Duy.

They were all still children, so why did meeting them feel so surreal?

Scratch that—he knew why: three of the five were the mentors of the main cast—one of them personally taught Naruto, the very same Naruto who the show he was currently living in was named after—and the other two were the parents of some of the most important characters.

So yeah, legends. 

And that idea, the feeling of awe and mild ​​reverence, was tossed right out the window, the second Tsunade face-planted into the ground, and Might Duy started rambling to Sakumo about “youth”.

He blinked. 

Tsunade lifted herself off the ground with a groan and none of the expected grace of a clan heiress, and Might Duy continued his speech, becoming more animated as time passed might he add, much to the visible chagrin of Sakumo.

He snorted. These sannin, forget that, it was much too early to give them that title—children fit far more, were a far cry from their future selves.

A shout cracked across the field, and Hiroto’s attention snapped toward the front.

One of the instructors—a lean, hawk-eyed chunin—was pacing with his hands behind his back. “We’ll be mixing groups for the first set of spars. Keep your complaints to yourselves.”

Someone had the gall to loudly whisper: “Please not Orochimaru. Please not Orochimaru.”

The instructor glanced at a clipboard. “Hyuga Hiroto. Senju Tsunade. You’re up.”

Wow.

Wasn’t that convenient? His first opponent was going to be someone who would be able to destroy mountains with mere punches in the future. 

Yay.

Although not all was bad, a small, irrational part of him felt excited. 

Not at the incoming pain he was bound to face—his love for training did not equate to being a masochist, thank you very much—rather, he was excited at the prospect of being able to test himself against one of the other children who was already considered the best of the best.

He had heard the rumors, hard not to when a good part of the village—especially the Hyuga—believed in them, and promoted them. 

Those rumors being: he was on par with the likes of Tsunade, Orochimaru, Sakumo, etc.

Tsunade stood, dusted her knees, and fixed her sleeves before making her way to the miniature arena where he was already waiting. 

She stopped a few paces in front of him, and he noticed, her cheek was still smeared with the dirt from her earlier fall. 

“So, you’re the Hyuga kid?” she asked, eyeing him with mild interest.

He snorted, but nodded anyway. “You’re not exactly in the position to be calling other people kids.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’ve heard about you. Supposed to be some kind of prodigy—some say better than me.”

Hiroto blinked. “Uh, thanks. That is supposed to be a compliment, right?”

Tsunade rolled her shoulders. “Depends on whether the rumors are exaggerated or not. Maybe I’ll have found myself a good punching bag.”

“Yeah, whatever. You always this full of yourself?”

Her eye twitched, but a grin still made its way to her face. “You planning to give me a reason not to be?”

“You fell flat on your face a couple of minutes ago.”

She waved her hands in dismissal. “Semantics.”

He had to give her that. She wasn’t lacking in grit. Or ego. 

Definitely not ego.

The instructor called for them to begin, and just like that, the jovial atmosphere evaporated: where there had been smiles were now frowns.

Tsunade shifted into her stance, low and forward-leaning.

He did the same. 

It was time to see who disappointed who.

.

The instructor, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, barked, “Begin!”

Tsunade didn’t hesitate, and she was fast. Faster than most kids their age had any right to be. 

The first punch came in low, aimed toward his ribs, and if he hadn’t been expecting her to come with aggression, it might’ve landed.

But he was expecting it.

So he sidestepped, even then barely, and through his all-seeing eyes saw her punch sail past him. 

There was a crack as her fist connected with the training post behind him.

The post snapped in half.

Splinters flew.

And he, very calmly, decided that if she hit him with one of those, he would need a casket.

So.

Maybe dodging was a good idea.

All distracting thoughts were promptly thrown out the window the minute her second punch came barreling toward his face with unerring accuracy.

He dipped low, angling his body toward the right—his hair flew back from the wind generated by the punch. 

Yep. Definitely going to dodge.

He promptly kicked off the ground and created some space, resetting the fight so he could take the initiative. 

“You’re fast,” she said, already shooting forward with a haymaker.

He didn’t deign her with a response, just shot an open palm strike toward her gut. Her left arm, which was cocked back and ready to shoot forward, was now used in a downward sweep to block the attack.

Although his strike hadn’t hit its mark, the red bump on her forearm and accompanying wince told him it wasn’t totally ineffective.

“Did that tickle?” he asked.

“Shut up.”

She was too fast for him to get the chance to fight clever—he could see all her actions, but he had no Sharingan, which could speed up his perception.

They exchanged a flurry of strikes quickly. His strikes came with surgical precision, hers with horrifying power.

Her knee shot up toward his ribs. He leaned to the left, and using the extra momentum, his right leg whipped toward her head.

She blocked it with her forearm, and the bruising grew.

To be honest, he’d expected more. When he hit the Hyuga children his age with that same combo, their guard would collapse, and they’d be defeated. 

All she had was some minor bruising. 

Stupid Senju genes.

Their clash continued, neither one of them gaining much ground over the other.

The problem wasn’t that he couldn’t react—it was that he had to react perfectly. Every time. A single misstep, and her fist would turn him into mincemeat. 

Still, it wasn’t like he was helpless. Long, gruelling hours with Hinako made sure his reaction time was out of this world.

He had to blur in and out of her guard to survive and ensure he was doing enough chip damage, and that was exactly what he did.

His movements became an amalgamation of attacks and sidesteps. 

Tsunade grinned. “Come on, prodigy. I thought you were supposed to be better than me.”

He ducked, then aimed two quick strikes to her side. She canted her body, evading the first strike, but the second grazed her forearm.

His counterattack struck true.

She hissed, and he smiled.

“You should say goodbye to your chakra network.”

And she realized it too. 

How could she not? Each time he landed a hit, her body reacted just a bit slower. 

He was no Hiro Hyuga, who could disable his enemies’ movements with a tap, but he was still proficient in the Gentle Fist for his age. 

He didn’t bother with any more snide remarks, mainly because the fight was entering its final moments, and he knew an animal was most dangerous when they were injured.

Even small movements made her use more strength now; she had to rely on brute force to push through. It was working—but for how long?

Another punch sailed past his shoulder. He ducked under the next one, struck her wrist, then her elbow, forcing her to retreat a step. 

That was the thing about Gentle Fist: you didn’t need to win all at once. 

It was like disassembling Legos, to be honest. Just start picking at the parts you didn’t like.

Her eyes narrowed.

“You’re annoying.”

She swung again, but her form had slipped. She leaned forward too much, making it hard for her to step back and retreat. Her other arm had also dropped to her side, likely to conserve energy—no doubt, just moving it would take a lot out of her. 

Checkmate.

He stepped inside the arc of her punch and tapped three tenketsu points on her side.

Her arm dropped mid-swing. 

She blinked.

He tapped her shoulder this time.

That was it.

The instructor raised a hand. “Winner: Hyuga Hiroto.”

He didn’t move at first. He was still kind of shocked that he had won. 

Sure, she was still a kid like him, but she also happened to be the future fifth Hokage.

He looked over to his opponent, and sure enough, she hadn’t moved either. Whether that was because of shock or simply because her chakra network was in shambles, he didn’t know.

She continued to stand there, one arm hanging uselessly at her side, the other twitching. Her brows were furrowed.

Probably in disbelief. 

And then, she flopped backward into the dirt and sighed up at the sky.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I hate this.”

He blinked. “You mean losing?”

“No,” she muttered, glaring up at a passing cloud. “Losing to someone smaller than me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “By what, an inch?”

“Still counts.”

He laughed. “You know, considering that you were trained by someone they call a God, you go down pretty easily.”

“Shut up.”

He went over and offered her a hand. 

She stared at it for a moment and then took it, pulling herself up with a little more force than necessary, just enough to make his shoulder ache.

She wiped her cheek on her sleeve, finally noticing the dirt still smeared across it. 

Meanwhile, he stood there a moment longer, letting the win sink in.

And right on queue, the whispers started.

“He really beat her?”

“Yeah—did you see that hit? Her whole arm dropped.”

“Is that the Gentle Fist thing?”

“No one’s even knocked her down before…”

.

Jiraiya leaned back on his hands, still staring at the field incredulously.

“She…she got destroyed,” he stammered. “She got beat up just as bad as she usually beats others.”

“It was a close fight,” Orochimaru countered, his arms crossed. “It’s just he chipped her down with the gentle fist, which is practically a death sentence.”

“Maybe, but still, that was a pretty crazy fight,” Jiraiya said. 

He paused for a moment, fidgeting with a clump of grass. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“No.”

“I wanna fight him.”

Orochimaru let out a rare grin. “You would get mauled.”

.

A/N: 

Short chapter compared to normal. To be honest, probably spent four hours just staring at the doc, unsure of how to continue. There was supposed to be a part where the MC, Hina, the future sannin, Duy, and Sakumo all have an interaction, but I couldn’t figure out a way to make it flow nicely for the life of me.

The next chapter will hopefully be longer, and with some more character interactions between the upper class.

Also, minor AU element with Might Duy being part of the same year as the future Sanin and Sakumo Hatake, but that will be the only AU element in the story.

Thanks for reading, and have a great day. Also, join the Discord.


Related Creators